Harry Potter and the Interdimensional Entity
by Jenni Rose
Summary: Harry changes places with a Harry trapped in a world where there is no Boy Who Lived
1. Chapter 1

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Six months after defeating Voldemort, Harry lay awake staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. Killing the Dark Moron was supposed to give him back control of his life, but since he'd struck the final blow, everything had just spiralled further and further out of control.

It wasn't bad. He wanted to marry Ginny Weasley. He wanted to be an Auror. He did, honestly. But it no longer felt like his own decision. He was being carried away by the tide of events and sometimes it was all he could do not to yell that he wanted everything to stop.

He wanted time.

He was supposed to have time. Killing the Dark Moron extended his life expectancy from Tuesday teatime to two hundred and something years.

He needed time, and space. But how was he supposed to ask for that? All he could imagine was disappointed faces. Or worse, disbelieving faces. They'd all made it very plain he needed their support. If he admitted he was struggling, Hermione and Ron would probably camp out with him permanently. Just the thought made Harry want to scream.

He loved Hermione and Ron, he did, he did. But he wanted space to breath.

He needed space to breath.

He could feel the scream building up in the back of his throat. Some days it was all he could do not yell out six months worth of swallowed words.

He couldn't hurt his pseudo-family like that. Couldn't risk everybody deciding, again, that he was going dark.

Couldn't complain either. How ungrateful did that sound?

But if something didn't change soon, he was going to snap.

"Hello," said a red glint of light.

"Okay," said Harry, "I've snapped. At least that takes the anticipation out of things."

"You're not crazy."

"Says the talking light."

"I am," the voice faltered before continuing grandly, "an interdimensional entity."

"Trying saying that three times fast."

"And I am here to offer you a choice."

"I'm listening," said Harry. He was a Gryffindor after all, when did he pay attention to his better judgement?

"You feel trapped."

"Yes."

"There's another Harry in a different universe that feels equally trapped."

"This isn't one of these stupid morality tales where we look at each other's burdens and decide to stick to our own. Cause I'm bored sick of living in a morality fable."

The voice laughed. "No, it is a genuine offer of exchange. You are each uniquely suited to bear each other's burdens."

"And this other Harry, he's not crazy or anything? He's not going to hurt anybody or turn into another Voldemort or something idiotic like that?"

"No. Or at least I don't think so."

"Well that's reassuring. As an interdimensional thingy, don't you know?"

"I'm interdimensional not omnipotent," the voice sounded distinctly sulky. "I'll admit the Harry you'll replace isn't the pleasantest person in either world. But in this world, with everything easy before him, I do believe he'll become the great man he could be."

"Okay, so you want me to take the place of a complete rotter. What's in it for me?"

"Your freedom. And your family."

"My family?" Harry stared at the red light. "Why would my counterpart be willing to give up his family?"

"Because he's stupid."

"Yeah, okay." Harry gave it points for bluntness. "So why should I trust him with the people I care about here?"

"Because he'll get less stupid, hopefully. He'll never give away those who love him so cheaply again."

"The Dark Moron's still around, right?"

The voice didn't reply.

Harry nodded, it was the only thing that made sense. "So basically you're recruiting me to go up against the Dark Moron again, because my counterpart is too much of a wuss to pull it off."

"He's stupid. And scared."

"Right. And in this world he can stop being scared, and hopefully he'll stop being stupid too?"

Harry wasn't sure how a red light could shrug, but it definitely shrugged. He thought it over. He loved the people in this world, he did, but the prospect of never seeing them again only filled him with relief. He could finally step off the roller-coaster that had yanked him along since that first day at Kings Cross.

He could step out of this life he didn't want and there was an idiot all lined up to replace him, so he wouldn't even upset anybody. He'd get to see his family, be part of his family. All he had to do was whack the Dark Moron again. Where exactly was the downside?

"Sign me up."

"Wahoo!" said the red light.

-

A baby's cry had Harry up and out of bed before he was even aware of his surroundings. Following the sound, he stumbled down a dark hallway and up a couple of steps to a second landing. There was a click of a Lumnos charm and the hall was flooded with light.

Turning his head, he saw a girl a couple of years younger than him with flame-red hair and hazel eyes. His first thought was Ginny, but a closer look had him thinking of his mother.

"S-sorry," she stuttered.

Her eyes were all wrong for his mother, though, so that meant,

"Hey Sis," he said, because the red light hadn't give him anything useful, like say names, or even that he had a sister.

Her eyes went wide, "Oh Harry, you haven't called me that in ages." She rushed at him then, flinging her arms around him in a tight hug. Tentatively Harry placed his arms around her. He maybe forgave the interdimensional thingy if it got him this sort of reaction.

The baby wailed again, and Harry pulled away from his sister to open the door. She tugged at his arm,

"I'm sorry he woke you up, I tried to get to him faster."

"It's okay." Harry eased past her into the room. The light from the hall showed a small toddler frantically trying to batter his way out of his cot.

"Hawwy," he wailed, arms thrashing.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Harry patted vaguely at the air a good two inches from the squalling toddler. He wasn't quite sure what to do, instinct had dragged him this far but he quailed at actually touching the child. What is he damaged him somehow?

But the child's crying cranked up another notch and he threw himself at the cot bars. Harry winced, because he was going to hurt himself at that rate and whatever Harry did wasn't going to be that bad.

Scooping the child out the cot, he hugged the squirming body to his chest.

"Hey calm down, it's okay. I'm here."

One small fist clamped down on the neck of his t-shirt and with one last sob of "Hawwy," the child pressed his wet, sticky face into Harry's shoulder. Harry rubbed his hand up and down the child's back in a gesture he knew from context was supposed to be comforting.

"Wow!"

At the suprised exclamation Harry's attention snapped back to his sister.

"Sis?"

"I didn't think Remy liked you at all."

"Remy," Harry repeated, happy to have a name for his charge. "Hey Remy." Then he realised what she had said, "Wait. What do you mean he doesn't like me?"

"I didn't say that. He clearly does like you," she took two quick steps backward.

"But why wouldn't he like me?"

She looked down her nose at him. "Cause you're mean to him Harry. Mum won't leave him alone with you since you fed him an exploding beetle."

"That was an accident," said Harry firmly, although he was afraid it hadn't been.

"Right," she agreed, clearly not believing a word of it. She turned on the light with a sharp snap. Harry screwed up his eyes against the brightness.

"Give him here," demanded his sister. "I'll look after him. If you start him screaming he'll wake Mum up and she's exhausted. Come on, give him here."

Reluctantly Hary started to peel the small body away from his but stopped immediately when Remy wailed his name again. He patted the little boy's back again and ruffled his hair. It was red like his sister's but fell into messy spikes like Harry's own. It made him feel like they were really related and he smiled.

"Looks like I'm stuck with him. Does he have a book or something I could read to him?" Harry thought he could manage book reading, at least he hoped he could.

His sister studied him suspciously, "You really willing to read?"

"Sure."

"Okay then. He likes A Potion's Alphabet and I could do with the revision."

With no idea what she was talking about, Harry just nodded. He carried Remy over to the armchair in the corner and settled the little boy on his lap. His sister handed him a leatherbound book and then flopped down to sit at his feet.

Harry opened the book. There were large picture of seeds and leaves and beneath them was written.

"A is for Appleseed, to brew you health." It occured to Harry that Hermione might have a point when she said the Wizarding world was biased towards the Purebloods.

Then his sister sighed and rested her head against his knee and Harry forgot everything but the solid warmth of her and Remy's presence.

He started to read.

-

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	2. Chapter 2

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Lily Potter woke up with a jerk. The sunlight streaming through her window told her it was well past time for Remy to wake up. She couldn't hear her little boy but that could be good or bad. It plain wasn't fair to expect Rosalba to keep the peace between her volatile older brother and the baby.

She dragged on her dressing gown, snatched up her wand and stumbled towards Remy's bedroom.

She heard Rosalba shriek, "Harry. Stop it!" and flung open the door 'Finite' already on her lips.

Rosalba yelled, "Mum, no."

Remy started to fall from where he had been floating near the ceiling.

Lily realised with horror that she had cancelled the Leviosa that was holding him there.

And Harry rolled forwards from his crouch on the floor, coming up just underneath his little brother and breaking his fall by part catching him, part providing a soft place to land.

"Again, again," the little hellion crowed, waving both hands in the air triumphantly. Harry ooffed for breath and set him on his feet, then clambered to his own.

Lily's shock transmuted into unforgiving anger, "What the hell is going on in here?"

Harry's head dropped and he actually looked ashamed, which scared her even more.

"We were just playing Mum, honest," said Rosalba, pushing her way forward to stand in front of her brothers.

Lily studied her daughter. Rosalba never admitted how much her elder brother's attitude hurt her and flat out lied to protect him. On the other hand, she had never let him hurt Remy.

"It's true," insisted Rosalba. "Harry was floating Remy and swooping him down to grab at my hair. But I didn't mind, not really. And when I told him to stop, he did, but then you came in and cancelled the floating charm by mistake, Remy fell and Harry caught him."

Lily decided to accept that for now. "Fine. But there will be no more performing magic when there's nobody to supervise. I understand that you are seventeen now, Harry, but you have a year left at school and you need another adult present in case of accidents."

She had braced herself for the expected storm of protest and was taken aback when her son didn't say anything.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes Mum, I promise," he said quietly, still not looking her.

"Good." Her fear and frayed nerves eased up enough for her to admit that she was the one who had caused this particular problem. "And thank you Harry, for catching your brother. That was quick-thinking."

Harry lifted his head at the praise and gave her a shy, hopeful smile.

It was so unlike her son's usual smirk, so painfully hesitant, that Lily crossed the room to draw him into a fierce hug. She was surprised when, instead of pulling back, Harry lent into her embrace, hugging her back just as fiercely.

After a minute though they breached the boy limit for acceptable displays of affection and she could feel him starting to grow restless. Not willing to let him pull away, she broke the hug herself. Then, arms aching with left-over hug, she grabbed Rosalba and squeezed the stuffing out of her too.

"So," said Harry, and Lily couldn't help feeling he sounded a little shaken. "What we need now is breakfast, right Remy?"

"What we need now is breakfast," echoed Remy.

"You want pancakes?"

"Harry don't be silly," said Rosalba. "Pancakes aren't breakfast."

"Sure they are. Americans eat them for breakfast all the time."

That was true, as far as Lily was aware, but she had no idea how her staunchly anti-Muggle son knew that.

"We can have pancakes for breakfast, can't we Mum?" said Harry.

Lily's heart gave a glad little jump at Harry's reversion to Mum, she had been nothing but Lily for a long, cold year. At that moment she would have happily agreed to ice-cream and chocolate for breakfast.

"Sure Harry."

"Great, come on Remy, I'll show you how to flip them."

"Me too," begged Rosalba, looking up at Harry with big, cautious eyes.

Lily held her breath, hoping her eldest son's miraculous good mood extended to his sister.

"Of course you too," Harry wrapped an arm around Rosalba's shoulders. "Everybody should know how to flip pancakes."

-

James Potter staggered exhausted from his home floo at ten o'clock in the morning after two long days failing to catch Death Eaters. Sirius had helpfully chucked a quarter-dose of pepper-up down his throat before shoving him at the floo.

"That'll get you there and up the stairs, Prongs. Now go get some sleep. Remus and I will be round this afternoon."

James had wanted to say something about Sirius getting some sleep. They were still dealing with the aftermath of the massacre at Little Wymondley and Sirius would keep going back until everyone with an ounce of blood and breath left in them had been retrieved. As James tripped into the fireplace, he saw his friend throwing back a full glass of pepper-up in preparation for returning to the fray.

He made a note to speak to Remus about making sure Sirius got some sleep if they had to cast a full body-bind. He'd do it now, but he was too worn thin for a fight right then. Too worn to do much of anything but crawl up the stairs. He stared up at the grand staircase in the Potter front hall, damn but there were a lot of stairs.

A ripple of laughter snagged his attention. Giving up on the stairs as a challenge too far, he headed towards the laughter. It sounded like Lily and he hadn't heard Lily laugh in longer than he cared to think about.

He pushed open the kitchen door and had a second to appreciate the view of his family all together. Rosalba was sitting on the table swinging her legs. Lily stood next to her one arm around her shoulders, and they were both laughing. His sons stood in the middle of the room, Remy perched on Harry's hip. Remy, with help from Harry's free hand, was holding the handle of a frying pan.

"And up we go," coached Harry.

A pancake lurched from the pan and wallowed drunkenly in the air.

"And _over_," said Harry firmly. The pancake flipped over neatly.

James blinked a little, it might have been his tired eyes playing tricks on him but that movement didn't seem natural, which meant his oldest son had just performed wandless magic. While flipping a pancake was hardly earth-shattering, it was highly impressive for a seventeen-year old.

The frying pan dipped wildly as Remy tried to best to catch the pancake.

"And _in_," said Harry.

That time James definitely saw it. The pancake jumped at least three inches higher in the air before landing dead centre in the pan.

"Well done," praised Harry, setting the pan back on the stove. He ruffled his little brother's messy red hair as Remy beamed up at him.

James watched identical green eyes grin at each and forgot all about wandless magic in the joy of seeing his sons happy together.

Remy's birth had turned Harry sour green with jealousy and nothing James or Lily had done seemed to make things better. This summer Lily had refused to attempt forcing them to get along and had studiously kept them apart, even going as far as to drop Remy off with his namesake whenever she had to leave for work. It seemed bitterly ironic that as soon as they stopped trying, Harry decided he liked his little brother after all.

But then James remembered being a teenager, when his parents enthusiasm for something was all that was needed give a permanent aversion. And Harry was undoubtedly as contrary-natured as his father.

"So you what do you want on your pancake?" asked Harry.

"Lemon n' sugar." Remy started to wriggle, Harry set him down, and the little boy made a beeline for the table. He stopped suddenly halfway there and turned towards James.

"Daddy!" he shrieked, waving his arms so excitedly he knocked himself off-balance and sat down abruptly, face screwed up with surprise.

Three faces snapped around.

"Dad," gasped Harry hoarsely.

James stared as his son's face lost all colour.

Harry stared at the man who had appeared in the doorway. It was like looking at a tall version of himself with brown eyes. It had to be,

"Dad."

As he had coached his siblings through making breakfast there hadn't been one reference to his missing father and Harry had accepted the man wasn't alive in this universe.

He didn't mind, not really. He'd know the red light wasn't telling him everything. And he had family here, a sister and a brother and his mother. Who scolded him and then hugged him just like a real Mum. When she had let him go, he had to fight the urge to grab her back. It was so incredible to see her there, smiling at him for doing nothing more than making pancakes.

It was nice to be told his parents would be proud of him for taking down the Dark Moron, but it was a thousand times nicer to know his Mum was proud of him for showing his sister and brother how to make great pancakes. Pancakes were wholly Harry, something he could truly be proud of. No prophecy twisting him. No dark, grand destiny to spend the rest of his life living up to. No death. Just perfect golden-brown pancakes.

The heat of the stove was making Harry's eyes water behind his glasses and he turned his full attention to assisting Remy flip his pancake. Wandless magic was cheating a bit, but he wanted to show off for his family. It wasn't as if he could, or would, boast about being able to cast a wandless disembowelment hex, but flipping pancakes wandlessly, that was worthy of being bragged about.

His, hopefully subtle, checks to see if he was impressing his mum and sister stopped when he saw Remy's bright, proud smile of achievement as he 'caught' the pancake. The fierce tenderness that rolled through Harry took him completely off guard. He was suddenly achingly aware that this was his little brother, and nobody but nobody was ever going to be allowed hurt him. He had to put the little boy down because his arms and legs suddenly felt all shaky.

Then Remy's surprised exclamation made him notice the new arrival.

Harry stared, because it couldn't really be, could it? He'd made his peace with knowing his father was already gone. This was too perfect, it couldn't be true.

Still staring, he walked closer. The tremble in his limbs spread to his suddenly queasy stomach.

"Harry?" said the man.

Harry stopped just inside the man's personal space. He wanted to hug his father but he wasn't quite sure how to initiate it.

"Are you feeling sick?" He gripped Harry's shoulder with one hand and used the other to flick up Harry's hair so he could place his palm against Harry's forehead. Harry shivered.

"I didn't think I'd see you," he said stupidly.

"What? Of course you'd see me. Harry are you all right?"

Harry couldn't think of anything to say. Couldn't think period. All the shock he should have felt earlier piled on top of him and breathing started to become an issue. He was surrounded by his family, they were real, and he still didn't know his little sister's name. His dad wanted answers and Harry couldn't find the breath to speak.

And then his little sister saved him,

"Of course he was worried Dad. We all were."

"But I'm fine, there's nothing to be worried about," said his dad.

His sister laughed. "Yeah right. You always try and come home for dinner, even if you go back out afterwards, and you're _always_ here for breakfast. But you weren't here for _two_ days." She sounded like she was about to cry and, when Harry turned towards her, she ran to him, pressing herself against his side.

"I'm sorry Rosalba," said their dad. "I didn't mean to worry you. I didn't realise you knew."

"So you think we're stupid or something? Even Remy knew something was wrong. Mum was up all night worrying."

"Lily?" their dad looked at Mum.

"I'm sorry James, but they're right. I don't think any of us have slept. It was pretty obvious something was going down, and –," now Mum sounded like she was about to cry.

"Darling I'm fine."

Harry moved himself and his sister, who was called Rosalba, he had a sister called Rosalba and a brother called Remy and any minute now his legs were going to pack up, out the way as Dad pushed past to embrace Mum.

"We're all fine. I promise you, Lily."

"For how long?"

"Okay yes, this attack is new and surprisingly aggressive for," he broke off and glanced in their direction.

"For Merlin's sake Dad, we'll read all about it in the Daily Prophet tomorrow," said Rosalba.

Dad laughed, "Fine, you're grown up, I get it young lady. But there isn't much more to tell. It was a new, aggressive tactic, we didn't counter it very well, and you can read all about how useless your old dad is in Rita Skeeter's column tomorrow."

"We'd better bloody not," said Harry, fingers flexing as he thought about the woman whose alternate self had caused him so much misery. He bet she was a beetle animagus here too, he'd have check. Though maybe in this universe they had laws against libel, "Can we sue?"

Dad looked surprised. "No, but thank you for your support."

"Well _my_ support is becoming a bit too literal for my tastes," said Mum.

"Sorry dear, the pepper-up's wearing off."

"The pepper-up's wearing off," mimicked Mum, "James Potter have you had any sleep these last two days?"

"Uh."

"That's what I thought."

"But,"

"No, no. Do not even try and use that idiot's example to defend yourself."

Dad's next attempt to justify himself was cut off by a gigantic yawn.

-

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	3. Chapter 3

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Lily elbowed her husband in the side. He did try to straighten up, unfortunately the pepper-up had definitely worn off. Instead of propping himself up against her, he was now listing heavily against the kitchen cupboard.

"Right. Rosie, keep an eye on Remy for me. Harry help me get your father to bed."

James slurred something.

She took refuge in sarcasm, "Yes dear, of course you can make your own way upstairs without passing out, how silly of me." What she really wanted to do was spend ten minutes screaming at her brainless oaf of a husband for scaring her silly and then take an hour away from the children to make up for screaming at him.

Sadly James was far too exhausted for either of these excellent plans.

Harry came over and, while clearly willing to help, seemed rather puzzled as to how to go about it.

"Here Harry, take his arm." She flopped James' arm over Harry shoulders. Her son gave a little grunt of effort, shifted slightly and dug in. James was doing his best to help but it was obvious Harry was bearing most of his weight.

Lily had a moment of mother's disassociation and for an instant saw Harry as the child he had been. She blinked to clear her eyes and he was back as the young man he so obviously was. Her baby had grown up no matter how she tried to deny it.

"Upstairs, Mum?"

"Yes please Harry."

James faded as they walked and by the time they reached the top of the stairs she and Harry were basically carrying him. Lily hurriedly opened their bedroom door with her elbow and hip and they dropped James more or less gently on the bed. As soon as he hit horizontal, James curled up in a tight ball.

With a flick of her wand she spelled his boots off, then gently unhooked his glasses, leaving them folded on the bedside table, and drew the duvet over him.

Turning around she saw Harry was watching her with dark, shadowed eyes.

"Harry?"

"Is he going to be all right?"

"Yes, he's going to be fine. Too little sleep and too much magic. You know your father, he's too stubborn to admit he's human like the rest of us."

"But –"

"He's crashing from too much pepper-up, it's not supposed to be used like a super-powered version of coffee."

Harry's gaze sharpened and Lily could see the thought running through his mind. Trust her son to draw exactly the wrong lesson from this, he was just like his father.

"Harry James, I catch you abusing pepper-up while you're studying for NEWTs and you will regret it, young man."

"Yes Mum," he said meekly. Lily didn't believe a word of it, but that was a battle for later.

"You were very good with Rosalba and Remy this morning and I'm grateful."

Her son looked both pleased and surprised.

"Now I really need to go check up on things. Can I trust you to watch Rosalba and Remy for me while I'm gone?"

"Of course you can Mum."

Lily found herself believing him. The sulky, snappy teenager appeared to vanished under the stress of James' absence. She only hoped he stayed gone.

"Thank you Harry. Now I must run, tell Rosie and Remy goodbye for me. I'll be back for dinner." She gave him a quick kiss goodbye and hurried back down the stairs to the floo.

Before she stepped into the fireplace, she took a quick glance around and crossed her fingers. She hoped everything would be okay, but right now she needed to check up on James' idiot other half.

"Auror Headquarters."

-

Harry was half-way down the stairs when he decided it would be a shame to waste such a handy place to sit, so he let his shaky knees give way and collapsed ungracefully in a heap.

The Dark Moron taught him how to deal with shocks, but when the danger was over and his adrenaline had worn off, Harry never knew what to do with himself.

He has found his parents, parents that some other moron Harry didn't want. Harry didn't understand how other-Harry at all. He was frightened to hold on to closely in case they disappeared like the mirage parents he had imagined to comfort himself in his cupboard. Leaving them voluntarily wasn't something Harry could even attempt to wrap his mind around.

So he stopped trying, stopped thinking about his parents and siblings and concentrated on the easy bit.

The Dark Moron. Same shit, different dimension.

He felt a little bit sick at the thought of facing the Dark Moron again. Not that he doubted he could do it, he'd done it once before, and he had more to lose this time.

The click of a door snagged his attention and his head jerked up. Rosalba stood there clutching Remy.

"Harry."

"Hey Sis."

She bit her lip. "I'm so scared Harry," she whispered. Her shoulders where hunched and her face was partially turned away, as if she was ashamed.

"Hey no," he said quickly, standing up to go to her, "it's okay. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

"I'm not scared for me," she hissed, swiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand, "I'm scared for Dad."

"He's going to be okay. Mum said so."

"But what about next time. If You-Know-Who is starting to attack again, Dad's going to try and stop him and..." she ducked her head, hiding her face beneath her long red hair.

"Dad will beat him."

"Dad will beat him," echoed Remy.

"See," said Harry, "Remy agrees with me." Rosalba huffed and shifted her grip on the toddler.

"How?" she snapped. "You-know-who survived the Killing Curse. And I know they say it was because Mum was a Muggle-born, but that's rubbish, she's stronger than most pure-bloods."

Harry blinked incredulously and tried to translate that, "Mum AK'd the Dark Moron?"

"You know she did Harry. She's never forgiven herself for not killing him outright."

"That wasn't her fault."

"Don't even try and tell me it's because she was nothing but a weak mudblood."

"Of course it bloody wasn't." The knowledge his sister was only repeating opinions she clearly disagreed with allowed him to try and regain his temper. He took a deep breath and took a second to arrange his thoughts. "What I meant was, since Mum AK'd the Dark Moron and it didn't stick, he must have some sort of defence against an AK."

"Harry there is no defence against the killing curse."

Remy babbled louder, trying to snag their attention and started to wriggle.

"Give him here," Harry too the little boy and jogged him in his arms, trying to keep him distracted, because he wanted to keep talking to his sister, he didn't know when he'd get a better chance to steer the conversation the way he wanted.

"Well Sis, we both agree that Mum cast a successful AK and it should have killed him. Since it didn't he must have some defence against it, or maybe just dying in general."

"So what if he has. That just makes things even worse."

"No, because if we can work out how he did, we can make sure it doesn't work next time."

Harry was surprised how bad he felt manipulating his sister like this. If the Dark Moron had survived an AK, he must have made at least one Horcrux in this dimension too, but that wasn't something he could just announce. He needed to show some evidence of searching for the information and this conversation would help with that.

It had to be done, it was the only practical thing to do, but that didn't make him feel any better. It just felt wrong treating his sister as a dupe instead of an alley. Scolding himself mentally, he reminded himself now was not the time to start growing a conscience.

"Harry, people have been looking for the answer ever since it happened."

"Yeah well, if they're willing to accept the idea of a 'weak mudblood' it doesn't sound to me like they've been trying very hard."

"Oh." Rosalba lifted her hand to her mouth in surprise. Harry was pleased to see she no longer seemed so unhappy and instead looked intrigued. "You're right. Gosh."

"Hey, I'm your older brother, I'm always right." It wasn't until Harry said it that he realised that was something Bill Weasley said. And like the younger Weasleys, Rosalba just rolled her eyes at him.

"Shut up you prat, this important. I can't believe nobody's looked into it. Well, actually I can. Merlin, let me think. Okay, the best person to ask would be Mum, but she never talks about it. I think, secretly, she believes it is her fault it didn't work."

Harry snorted.

"We should ask Dad."

That wasn't what Harry wanted at all. "We can look into it ourselves."

"Harry, you know the parents don't want us involved in the war."

Harry bit down on his first response, that they were bloody involved whether they wanted it or not, and said, "We'd just be looking at books. You'd think Mum at least would be pleased."

Rosalba tapped her fingernails against her lower lip as she thought about that. Finally she smiled delightedly.

"You're right. She would. And we shouldn't bother Dad right now. He's too busy."

"Exactly."

They shared a conspiratorial smile.

-

The atmosphere at the Auror Headquarters was alarming relaxed for the day after a major attack by the Death Eaters.

Lily wasn't surprised.

James would have called in all hands. After the crisis, his own First Watch, Longbottom's Third and McKinnon's Fourth would have been released to recover from a two-day running battle with Death Eaters. Which meant Vraci's Second Watch had command.

James had been trying to dislodge Vraci from the Aurors since before he made Watch Captain. "You know," he'd said to Lily once, "I'd actually feel better if he was a Death Eater, because if he's genuinely that fucking incompetent, I'm embarrassed to even know him."

Second Watch was were James stashed all the pure-bloods who bought their way into the Aurors and anybody else he didn't trust to play with scissors. Lily never quite understood how, but in some inexplicable way that meant Second Watch was considered the beau ideal.

"Of course it makes sense," Remus had explained patiently, "It's tradition. The Second have the swankiest uniforms and First do all the work. Why wouldn't everybody want to be in Second?"

"Sirius is pure-blooded enough. If they'd let him join the Aurors, I could have made him Captain of Second. That would have sorted them out," sulked James.

"Mate, then you'd have to change your policy of dumping all the public relations on Second." Sirius attempted to cheer him up.

James just slumped further into his chair and deeper into his drink. "I've had to do that anyway. Vraci's either trying to get me fired, or he's even worse at PR than you."

"Nobody's worse than me at PR." Sirius passed him another bottle of beer, "You want me to poison him?"

James turned the offer down, but Lily had the feeling he was holding the idea of a (non-fatal) poisoning in reserve for emergencies.

None of which endeared Vraci to her, particularly since she was the one drafted to write James' press releases for him. It didn't help that Vraci considered himself something of a ladies' man. Lily had not shared this information with the men in her life.

"Mrs Potter, how delightful to see you again."

Lily cringed as he took her hand and pressed a moist kiss to the back. She reclaimed her hand as soon as possible and resisted the urge to scrub it clean.

"I believe your charming husband has already left for the day."

"I am aware, thank you. I am here to visit the MediWizards section."

"Yes, I should have realised you were here to see Black."

"So I'll be going." Lily walked past him quickly, twisting her body to avoid brushing against him.

She took a great breath of relief once she had made it around the corner. She dusted herself off and gave in to the temptation to rub her hand against the sleeve of her robe. Talking to Vraci always left her feeling like she needed a shower.

"You better appreciate this Sirius Black."

The MediWizard section attached to the Aurors were still had a subdued hum of activity as five exhausted, grey-faced Mediwizards staggered around seven bodies on the emergency beds. As Lily watched the Apparition Point flared to life and two cloaked figures appeared clutching one adult and three pre-teens between them.

The lead figure tried to walk forwards but tripped over his feet he was too tired to lift. Lily jumped forward to field him and his charges.

Sirius lifted his wobbly head and squinted at her, "It's Mrs Prongs. Why are you here?" his eyes crossed, "Are you here?"

"Sirius, you utter idiot."

"Oh yes, you're definitely here."

Lily shook her head, "Go home, idiot, before you keel over."

"Can't. Soon as I leave, Vraci will stand everybody down."

"But –"

"There's only Muggles left," he spat tiredly. "And who cares about them."

"At least stay here and send the others out."

With a visible effort he pulled himself upright. "I've only got my kids left. I'm not sending them out alone."

Lily glanced at the MediWizards, and, looking through the mud and weariness, could see they were all trainees barely older than Harry. She felt ancient in comparison.

"Where's everybody else?"

"Sent them home before they keeled over."

"Right." She pushed down the queasy mixture of anger, disgust and affection. "Give me a passport-medallion so I can use the Apparition point. In fact make it two and I'll round up Remus."

"No. Prongs would never, I would never, forgive me if you got hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt," she as patiently as she could. Sirius was running on nothing but fumes. It wasn't fair to take her anger at others out on him. "Moony will be with me, and your trainees. James would never have left if the Death Eaters were still around."

"Might come back," said Sirius, more stubborn than anything human had the right to be.

Lily gave up on reasoned discourse, it rarely worked on him at the best of times, and went for a trick she'd seen James use.

"Stand down, Padfoot," she barked, "I'll keep watch."

"I,"

"Trust me, I'll keep watch."

Sirius let out a great sigh, his eyes rolled back in his head and Lily had to brace him before he hit the floor. Two of Sirius' trainees jumped in to help.

"Thank you Mrs Potter," said a girl with a scruffy plait and hollow eyes. "We were worried he was going to splinch himself or worse."

Lily bit down on her demand to know why they hadn't stopped him. Instead she said,

"Next time, if my husband's unavailable, call me."

"We couldn't, Mr Black would be furious with us."

"Not after I was finished with him he wouldn't be. Now where can we put him, if we can't send him home."

"There's a spare bed in the corner. Well it's not precisely spare, cause Fenwick and DeBoeck are already in it. They passed out about three hours ago and we didn't have anyone free to get them home."

"Great. Now somebody hand me two passport-medallions. And nobody better give me any nonsense about reporting this to Vraci."

"We would never." They all looked horrified at the idea.

"Thank you," she said, "for helping the Muggles I mean." It made her furious that what they were doing was so extraordinary that she should feel gratitude, but the average Wizard would have abandoned the Muggles without a second thought, and she was so grateful they hadn't.

"It is our responsibility," said the young witch with dignity. "Mr Black said we swore an oath to aid those in need and the Muggles don't have anybody but us." Her voice grew a gruffer and rougher as she quoted Sirius directly, "The Wizarding World is damn well going to clean up its own mess for once."

Lily forgot most of the time, because Sirius worked hard to make people forget, that he wasn't James' best friend just because they shared a fondness for pranks.

-


	4. Chapter 4

Note: Thank you for all the reviews. A couple of people asked about other Harry, so I had a think and other Harry will now feature. *** indicates the universe is changing, it should be pretty obvious anyway.

-

"We should go check out the library right now," said Rosalba.

Harry abruptly switched his focus to hanging onto Remy as his brother nearly eeled his way out of his grip.

"I think we should do something with Remy first. Or he'll get bored and into trouble."

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed reluctantly. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I was thinking we could do something together. Maybe flying?" he offered hopefully.

"Sounds great." Her face sharpened, "You'll put Remy in a child harness?"

"Of course," said Harry, because, even if he had never heard of one before that was clearly the correct answer.

"And just because Neville's not here, doesn't mean we're going to relax the rule about you being allowed to play beater. I am not going to let you entertain yourself trouncing me hollow."

"I wouldn't," said Harry instinctively. After a second he worked out that her words implied that in this universe he played beater, with Neville. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to deal with that long term, but right now he knew exactly what to say,

"We'll play Seeker Quidditch. Want to make a bet?"

"Oh you are so going down, Harry James."

Harry grinned his very best evil grin.

***

Three universes over, another boy called Harry Potter blinked open his eyes and stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling.

Sheer terror petrified him. The Death Eaters had finally claimed him, he was going to die. He lay there frozen, staring at the plaster snakes twisting across the ceiling, as his heart thundered.

The bang on the door on the door was a painful relief.

"Harry! Get up!" shrieked a young woman's voice, "Ginny will be here soon."

His brain struggled with trying to understand such mundane words in so dangerous a setting.

"Harry! Harry?"

"Give me a minute," he managed to shout shakily.

"Are you alright Harry?"

"Fine," he said more firmly. "I'm fine, I just need a minute."

"If you say so." She didn't sound convinced but to Harry's relief he could hear footsteps retreat from his door.

Weakly he pushed himself up into a sitting position. When the world did not immediately cave in around him, he took stock of his surroundings. The first thing he spotted were his glasses on the bedside table and he quickly shoved them on. He blinked a couple of times, the world was now in focus but otherwise did not change significantly.

The room was furnished in fusty pureblood, circa a long time ago. On one wall though, there were two bright Quidditch posters and strewn across the floor was a tangle of clothes and –

"Are those jeans?"

He lent out of the bed, tugged the suspect blue trousers free from the snarl of clothes and held them up to inspect them. Harry had only ever seen jeans at a distance, but these certainly seemed to be the Muggle-lovers' clothing of choice.

"This makes no sense. Death Eaters would never wear jeans, nor would a Slytherin. And whoever owns this room is definitely a Slytherin." He glanced up at the plaster snakes, now he could see them clearly they seemed almost to be alive and writhing their way across the ceiling. Queasy, he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

The darkness reminded him of that weird dream he'd had last night. The weird, wonderful dream where a red light offered him a way out of the darkness and death ahead. Of course it had only been a dream, although he remembered it awfully clearly for a dream, and he was in this strange new place...

"Merlin and Morganna, this is _my_ room."

He stared at the room taking in the same details through this new perspective.

"Merlin, I'm a Muggle-lover."

He stared some more, "And a Slytherin. I'm not sure which is worse."

His head started to hurt. He couldn't be a Muggle-lover _and_ a Slytherin. Then he remembered his father's so-called best friend, Sirius Black had come from a Slytherin family and turned into the worst sort of traitorous Muggle-lover.

"So maybe I'm not actually a Slytherin. At least it will be easy to stop being a Muggle-lover."

Or maybe it was okay to be a Muggle-lover in this new world with no Dark Lord. He would have to make sure he understood how things worked before he made any big changes. According to the red light the other him had defeated the Dark Lord, so he must be a pretty important person in this world. They'd probably overlook a little eccentricity like a Muggle-born mother.

Feeling more secure, he decided to risk getting out of bed and getting dressed. Picking his way through the detritus on the floor, he couldn't find anything he was willing to wear. The other him was clearly penniless. He knew there had to be a disadvantage to the whole no Dark Lord deal. Still, if the other him had got rid of the Dark Lord, there must be all kinds of opportunities he could take advantage of. A successful Ministry career was a given.

Provided he could find some decent clothes. Nobody would employ him if resembled some disgraceful Muggle ragamuffin.

Plundering the wardrobe was more successful. Squashed on the far right he found a respectable robe that couldn't have been worn more than once or twice. He pulled it on and was relieved to find, other than being a little tight across the shoulders, it fit perfectly.

A mirror hung by the wardrobe. He was disappointed but unsurprised to find his hair was as shocking here as it had been in his original world, and quickly flicked into as close to order as possible.

"Looking good Potter."

He snatched up the wand that was resting on the bedside table.

"Ow!" he yelped and promptly dropped the wand. Nursing his stinging palm he glared at the chunk of wood. "If the other me can use you I can too."

Wrapping a sock around his hand, he risked touching the wand again. He could feel the raw magic inside the wood jump and buck against his control. He gripped it fiercely, grabbing another sock to protect his left hand as he used both hands to force the wand to obey him.

"_Lumnos_," he said loudly. The room blazed white. Screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head, he focused on reducing the power thrumming through the wand. Eventually, when he could no longer feel the light through his eyelids, he risked squinting his eyes open.

The spell was still powerfully enough to light the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Harry tightened his grip, gritted his teeth and concentrated. Slowly he managed to choke off the power until he had a Lumnos charm of appropriate intensity.

"Alright!" he cheered. "I can do this."

He cancelled the charm and the cessation of the power-rush left him hollow and shaky. Reeling, he dropped the wand and clutched at the bed post.

"Oh Merlin," he panted. He thought he might throw up. He'd never felt this bad no matter how much firewhiskey he and Neville had drunk.

Giving up on dignity he curled up on the bed and concentrated on breathing shallowly until the trembling in his muscles faded and he longer sweated cold. There was a glass of water on the bedside table and he gripped it with both hands to take a few careful sips. He was still hollow, and ravenous, but no longer felt as if he would collapse at minute.

Carefully he touched the wand with one finger. The wood just tingled slightly. Harry suspected there wasn't much magic left in him to react, after the wand had sucked so much out of him for that ridiculously over-powered Lumnos.

"Breakfast," he said. "That's what I need. After breakfast, I'll be fine. Dad's always running his magic down to nothing and he's always fine."

Gingerly holding the wand with the tips of his fingers, he slid it into the sleeve holster of his robe.

"I just need to practice a bit before I have to cast any spells in public. That's all. Everything's going to be fine. I am Harry Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord." Sort of, anyway. The Dark Lord was defeated, that was the important part.

"Harry!" yelled a male voice.

"Coming," Harry yelled back. He checked his reflection one last time, then strolled boldly out the door.

***

Harry was thrilled to discover his little sister was a natural Seeker. Rosalba seemed equally thrilled to discover he was a natural Seeker, even though he caught the Snitch in under five minutes, twice, before she stopped accusing him of cheating and started taking him seriously.

Their third round was still going, Rosalba was seriously sneaky, when he spotted the three figures approaching. He flagged Rosalba down and brought his broom around to hover beside her.

"Hey Sis, who're they?"

Her broom flinched as she caught sight of the intruders.

"I don't know Harry. Nobody's supposed to be able to enter the Potter grounds without an invitation, I don't know why the wards haven't gone off."

Harry's first thought was Death Eaters. It didn't seem a very Death Eaterish plan though, just approach a house in broad daylight. There was only three of them too, and the Death Munchers usually liked their odds more uneven than that.

Something glinted bright and sharp in the sunshine. Raising one hand to shield his eyes, Harry squinted and realised the man was carrying a camera.

"Reporters," he growled.

"What?"

"Reporters, they're fucking reporters." Overall Harry preferred the Death Munchers, at least they didn't try and pretend they weren't ripping people's lives apart for their own amusement.

Kicking his heels, he swung his broom around and swooped down.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Harry Potter, do you have any comments on the latest Death Eater attack and the scandalously slow response of the Aurors?"

Harry stared, it was Rita Skeeter in all her bright, poisonous glory. As he struggled to reign in his desire to just obliterate the woman, Rosalba appeared by his side.

"What are they doing here, Harry?"

"They're leaving," said Harry firmly, trying to Incendio the reporters with the force of his glare alone.

Rita Skeeter's hair started to smoke.

"Hey!" she jerked her head aside, patting out her hair with a quick practiced hand. "I don't expect this sort of treatment when I've been invited."

"Dad would never invite you in."

"Harry," she smiled, all teeth. "You invited us."

Harry stared at her in disbelief until he realised exactly how much of a moron the other Harry was. Cursing other Harry violently in the privacy of his own head, he turned his best shark-smile on the reporters.

"Good, that makes it simple. Consider yourselves uninvited and get the hell out of here."

"What?"

Harry has never seen Rita Skeeter caught so off guard before and it is deeply satisfying to witness.

"Was something I said unclear?" he asked.

"No Harry," said his sister, "I think you were pretty clear." She turned on the reporters, "Now get the hell off our land."

Harry drew his wand and moved so he had her back, if things went sour he wanted her in view so he didn't hit her accidentally. He wrapped his free hand around the baby and waited.

"Is this the sort of treatment the free press can expect at the hands of Potters?" demanded Rita Skeeter with a rhetorical flourish.

"As long as you continue to print lies about my father certainly." Harry was beginning to get tired of being polite. Hermione had been trying to hammer into him the importance of maintaining a pretence of civility no matter what the circumstances, - _pure-bloods expect it, Harry_.

Frankly the point of it escaped Harry completely. If everybody knew you loathed each other, why pretend any different.

"If Mr Potter does not wish to speak to the press, we can only assume he has something to – awk!" she squawked as her note parchment disintegrated into ashes.

Harry flicked his wand again and her quill went up in a puff of flame.

The photographer eyed him suspiciously and wrapped a protective arm around his camera,

"Come on Rita, we've got all we're going to."

"Fine." The look she shot Harry promised vengeance, then she turned on her heel and stormed away.

"She looked awfully poisonous," said Rosalba nervously as they watched them leave the grounds.

"Yeah. I wonder if she's a stinging sort of beetle, I never thought to ask."

"Should we have done that? What if she writes nasty things about Dad?"

"She was going to do that anyway. But I'll be damned if she puts my name to them."

"But there must be something we can do."

"Maybe there is. Sis, do you know a girl called Luna Lovegood?"

-


End file.
